Heavenly Peace
by RealFunkyTown
Summary: Lucifer has taken Sam as his vessel, but once a year Sam and Dean still get twenty-four hours together. This year they're meeting for the last time.


**Warning:** Mentions of character deaths.

* * *

The stars were dark, disguised behind a curtain of clouds as snowflakes fell in light flurries. Dean had been sitting on the park's bench long enough for the snow to accumulate over his feet.

While they kept his socks dry, the scuffed biker boots didn't do a damn thing to keep in the heat. He wiggled his tingling toes to make sure he still could.

Dean pulled his hand from his pocket and used his sleeve to wipe the snowflakes from his nervously twitching thighs. His body heat melted the flakes he missed into the threadbare denim of his already frigidly damp jeans. A sharp shiver jolted through him. He pulled the collar of his tattered jacket tighter around his neck before shoving his hand back into his pocket.

Bustling last minute shoppers and the Christmas carols spilling out onto the street had quieted hours ago. The streets were now so still that even the plopping of heavy snowflakes reverberated through the air.

Dean hummed softly to himself, _Silent Night_ rumbling low and barely audibly in this throat.

He had stopped in to refuel at the mall's food court right before security had locked the gates for the evening. At the Cinnabon kiosk he'd ordered a hot chocolate. The obscenely cheerful, Santa hat wearing cashier had taken one look at him and upgraded his hot chocolate order to include a couple super sized cinnamon rolls on the house. The now empty paper cup and boxes sat on the bench beside him disguised beneath mounds of snow.

While it had been a long time since he'd been able to look at himself in the mirror, he knew the charity had nothing to do with closing time. If he looked half as bad as he felt it was no surprise the girl had pitied him. He wanted to be pissed or embarrassed, but he was just too tired.

More than anything he was glad she was still here – that any of this was. No one realized how close they had come to losing it all.

After all, they'd lost the battle against Lucifer. Too little too late and Sam had surrendered, had given everything to save Dean. He didn't blame his little brother. If Sam hadn't beaten him to it, Dean would have done the same for Sam.

Still his jaw clenched at the memory of the look in his brother's eyes when that one damning word had left Sam's lips. It had been a silent apology. It had been goodbye.

Tactically, Sam had bought them enough time. Michael was out of the picture and the apocalypse was derailed. The Croatan virus had been stopped in its tracks and life as most humans knew it went on unchanged. Only a few knew that Lucifer was walking the earth. They'd kept him in check, but little by little Lucifer ate away at things. At Dean.

He pulled up the cuff of his jacket to check the time. 12:15 AM, Christmas day.

His breath caught in his throat as he heard the crunching of footsteps through the crisp snow. Anxiously he looked over his shoulder, staring into the shadows cast by the streetlights.

"Dean?"

At the foreign sound of his name being spoken, he stiffly stood and worked to get the blood again flowing through his legs. His weary eyes lit up at the sight of Sam, not Lucifer wearing his brother, but his Sammy. Sure Lucifer was along for the ride, but on this day it was that son of bitch's turn to take the passenger seat.

Castiel hadn't been able to explain it, nobody could. But it happened every Christmas. It was the only sure Christmas tradition Dean had ever had.

A few days before, Dean would move in on Lucifer's location and by Christmas Eve he was waiting with an anticipation that twisted his stomach in knots. Every Christmas Sam found him.

The twenty-four hours they were allowed always passed in a blink of an eye and every December 26th came with all the starkness of the fog being lifted from a serene dream. It still gave Dean just enough to hold on for one more year. Just enough to keep fighting.

"Sammy."

Dean could barely choke out the word as he threw his arms around his brother tight enough that they both were left struggling for air. Neither complained.

When Sam let go, his hand brushed against Dean's cheek. His brother's fingers were hot against his icy skin as they traced the jagged line of a relatively new scar at the side of Dean's face. Turning his head away, Dean took a step back. Despite the concern in his eyes, Sam knew better than to ask.

"Dean, you're frozen solid. Why didn't you wait in the Impala?"

With a shaky inhale Dean shook his head. Lucifer had caught on quick that this twenty-four hour window, even just once a year, could be enough to bring him down. Now when he was in control Lucifer kept Sam locked away, blind to what was happening. It was only Dean who remembered and he remembered it all in excruciating detail.

"She was totaled," Dean answered simply.

No need to mention the obvious, that Dean had been in the car and Lucifer the catalyst to the 'accident'. Instead he gave a dismissive wave and followed his brother to the car Sam had come in.

As they walked, his brother shrugged off his jacket and slung it over Dean's shaking shoulders. There'd been a time when he would've kicked Sam's ass for such a girly move. Tonight he just wanted his brother by his side.

"So you're fixing it up at Bobby's?" Sam asked.

There was also no reason for Sam to know that Bobby was gone or the things Sam's own hands had done to their surrogate father before he'd been allowed to die. Sam didn't need to know that Dean had been beaten helpless and hadn't been able to do anything but watch.

"Nah. It's time to let her go."

Sam's expression was one of shock, but Dean held the confused hazel eyes long enough to say it was okay. It was time to let go.

"You should really be spending the day with your family."

Dean raised a questioning brow at the statement. Spending the day with his family was exactly what he intended to do.

"Lisa and Ben," Sam elaborated.

A light wave of nausea passed over Dean at just the sound of the names. His numb fingers ran over his face and he stiffly shook his head. Compared to them, Bobby had died easy. When Dean spoke, the words were barely above a whisper.

"It didn't work out."

"I'm sorry," Sam said as he pulled open the car door for Dean. It was another ass kicking worthy maneuver that Dean savored tonight only because his fingers were too numb to work the door latch himself.

Dean shrugged as he plopped down into the passenger seat without taking his hands from his pockets. "It's okay. It was my fault."

If he'd been able to save his brother back when it counted, Lucifer never would've taken the reigns. The demonic excuse for an angel wouldn't have had the chance to carve away everything Dean had known.

When Sam fired up the car the heat blasted from the vents. Dean pulled his hands from his pocket, his skin greedily soaking in the warmth.

His fingers had barely began to thaw before Sam pulled the car into a motel parking lot. Once inside the room, Dean instantly began to strip out of his wet clothing that was still sending shivers through him. Sam tossed him some sweats and a beer. In an instant the last 364 days of hell melted away.

Dean popped the cap from the bottle and raised it to his brother.

"This is it, Sammy. Anything and everything you've wanted to do. Now's the time."

"I know, man. In twenty hours you need to be gone."

"No." A distant look came to Dean's eyes as he ran his fingers along the neck of the bottle. "We're gonna end this together."

Sam set his beer aside and stared at Dean. "End this?"

"Next Christmas we'll be hanging with Ash knocking back tequilas."

"Dean..." Hope and horror intermingled in Sam's eyes. "You found a way to stop Lucifer."

Dean gulped down another swig of beer. "Yahtzee."

Feeling almost lightheaded at the reality, Dean settled on the far edge of the bed. Sam took the hint and settled down on the other side of the same bed while Dean reached for the remote. Turning on the television, he flipped through the channels until he settled on _A Christmas Story_.

"But how?"

Dean shook his head. "You know I can't tell you that." One slip of the tongue and Lucifer would see it coming. "But it's a sure thing so in the morning you're buying me eggnog and apple pie." His eyes drifted to the television. "And when's the last time we made a snowman?"

Sam nodded towards the screen. While his mind was obviously racing, he played along. "I think it was the same year you told me to lick that flagpole in Nebraska." He chuckled and Dean drank in the sound. "Now that was good times."

"Yeah, that was freakin' hilarious."

Dean rolled his eyes before smirking at the memory. Sam had pretended to do lick the pole and said nothing happened. Like an idiot, Dean had to try it himself, only he had really done it. He hoped Lucifer would see the irony of that memory come tomorrow - hoped it would be the last thing the devil ever saw.

As much as he'd clobbered Sam for that one, mostly he'd just been proud of his little brother. Always had been. Always would be and this here and now was exactly how he wanted to go out, at his brother's side.

"It's gonna be an awesome Christmas, Sammy."


End file.
